One of the things that most appealed to me about life as a writer (other than having the licence to judge everything) was the notion that I would be my own boss, that I would be free to produce my work in my own time without any deadlines. Oh I hate deadlines.
However, I still have my day job with all its deadlines and there is something peculiar that I’ve noticed. I get my day job done. With writing I’ve gone with the old adage that I won’t force it, I’ll free the mind and work on what project my genius wants to. It wants to work on Facebook and Twenty20 cricket. Bugger.
I do set deadlines for my work but lets face it, if I miss them I only let down my self and for that I have a Phd. This is probably the reason why none of my scripts have been completed as yet – OK, I’ve only written one. And probably the reason why I’ve finished loads of sketches and actually had them broadcast – there were deadlines. Made by other people.
So I love deadlines. I woke up this morning energised with the knowledge that Friday is a deadline day for some radio sketches I wanted to submit. In order to confirm the time of day that I had to get them in by, I checked the details to find out the worse possible news. The deadline is midnight on Friday… 18th of July! It’s a whole month away! Now, I’ll be lucky if I open a new document before then.
Ooh… a new friend request…